Bear with Me
by Gloriana Femina
Summary: Erik and Meg spot an attractive music history lover, Christine, at the mall's food court while shopping for a wedding gift. Meg, desperate to play matchmaker, forces Erik to visit Christine at the toy store where she works. Sparks fly as Christine helps Erik get a little revenge for Meg's meddlesome ways. Fluffiness ensues. E/C, Modern AU. COMPLETE
1. Bear with Me

Bear with Me

"Do you think Mom would like this," Meg asked, holding up a black, silky nightgown. "I bet Nadir would."

The garment she had thrust at him was conservative, as far as black, silky nightgowns went, but Erik had no desire to think about his long-time friend – who was as close to an older sister or mother figure as he had ever had – in anything remotely like this. Especially since said sister/mother figure was currently engaged to his best friend, Nadir Kahn.

"I don't know, and I don't want to know," Erik stage-whispered while shaking his head. "But if you buy that for her, I'm out. I will not be a party to this wedding gift."

"Geez, I get it! I'm putting it back," she assured him in the slow, overly calm voice of a hostage negotiator. "I wish she was like regular moms. Amy's mom is obsessed with those fancy charm bracelets. All Amy has to do is pick out something from her wish list, and she's done. Mom and Nadir don't want or need anything," the little blonde huffed. "It's crazy they haven't made a registry, not even for their honeymoon."

"Maybe we should try one of those keepsake stores and get them a music box," Erik suggested, desperate to be anywhere but the misses section. "We could have it engraved with their wedding date."

"Good thinking," Meg agreed, brightening up. "There's one by the food court, and I'm dying for pretzel nuggets."

"A ballerina eating carbs," Erik gasped. "Will wonders never cease!"

"I've been budgeting my calories all week for this shopping trip. I'm getting the pretzels." Meg turned on her heel and marched straight towards the food court, blonde hair bouncing with every eager step. Erik quickly accompanied her, making sure they weren't separated.

He just wanted to leave the mall as soon as possible. Meg may not have noticed, or perhaps she simply didn't care, but employees had shadowed them at every store. The reason was quite plain – a man in a mask was suspicious, though perhaps not suspicious enough to throw out when a pretty, young woman was chatting with him animatedly. He was not in the mood to stick around for pretzels. Nevertheless, Meg was family. Pretzels she would have.

Erik sullenly dropped into a seat at a table long enough to hold twenty people and waited as Meg stood in line. His gaze wandered about for a moment before landing on a Puccini biography a couple of tables away. He glanced up at the person holding the book, and his mouth dropped open.

The reader of this book was a woman about Meg's age – probably early to mid-20s – roughly ten years younger than him. She had long brown ringlets that tended towards the frizzy side, and the eyes riveted to the page were bright blue. She was chewing on the end of a pen, occasionally using it to underline something or jot notes into the margins.

His first thought was, _I really hope that's not a library book._ His second thought was _, who is she?_

Meg chose this moment to throw herself into the chair across from him. She immediately noticed him tilt his head to see around her and twisted in her seat to follow his line of sight. She turned back around with an exaggerated grin. "Cute, isn't she?"

"What? No," he replied unconvincingly, not taking his eyes off the girl. "I haven't read that, and I wanted to remember the name of the author."

"Oh, sure, like there's a book about Puccini you haven't bought as soon as it was published," Meg answered sarcastically.

She was right. He had preordered that one and then read it in three days. It had been pretty good, though he thought the author spent a little too much time on the more sensational aspects of Puccini's life, like his life-threatening car accident, and his numerous extra-marital affairs. He didn't buy books about composers to learn about their personal tragedies – he wanted in-depth analysis.

"You should go talk to her," Meg suggested, cutting through his musings. Meg had always wanted to play matchmaker for her lonely, masked friend. For years, she'd tried to convince him to sign up for those dating sites, and she made up elaborate love stories between Erik and every age-appropriate woman involved with the opera company, despite Erik's total lack of interest.

What had she called it? _'Shipping?'_ She had _'shipped'_ him with various singers, dancers, musicians, and administrative employees since she was fifteen. Now that Erik had looked at a woman twice – well, looked once for an embarrassingly long amount of time – she was already planning her bridesmaids' dress. Erik's probable wife over there looked like she would pick out navy blue off-the-shoulder dresses. Taffeta, maybe chiffon. Might be hard to find the right shoes; she'd have to check online when she got home.

Erik interrupted her appraisal, "She's just an attractive young woman interested in one of my favorite composers, going about her day. There's no reason to approach her. It probably wouldn't be welcome, anyway."

"You just said you think she's attractive," Meg pointed out, ignoring everything else Erik had just said.

"I'm disfigured, not blind," Erik hissed, leaning back against his chair and unconsciously smoothing back his dark hair.

"Come on, you have a great opening," Meg argued. "You could talk about that book or tell her about other biographies she should try. Just make sure you don't mansplain it."

Erik didn't need a comeback; the woman closed her book and rose from her seat. Meg and Erik could see she was wearing a uniform for one of those stores where kids came in and picked out teddy bears and their accessories. She slowly glided back to work a couple of doors down from the keepsake shop, her hips swaying a little as she walked.

Meanwhile, Erik reminded Meg that they had an engraved music box to buy. Meg dropped the subject of the Puccini lover...until they got back to Erik's car. The whole journey back to her apartment, she kept pushing Erik to go to that teddy bear store and sweep her off her feet.

Meg brought it up again the next time he had dinner with her, Antoinette and Nadir, who all agreed that he should go back. Meg brought it up again at the opera's next cast party, recruiting everyone there to her cause. She brought it up again and again and again.

Thankfully, this poor woman had no idea she was a subject of regular conversation for three solid weeks until Meg came up with a plan he had to carry out. She asked for a personalized teddy bear from that particular store for her birthday.

Erik grumbled all the way to the store – about silly girls asking for silly toys, people who couldn't mind their own business, and how embarrassing it would be to show up at this store as an adult with no children. Going to any store in a mask was bad enough, but this was going to be a disaster. They'd be sure to call the police, just like that time his car broke down outside a bank, and he had to go in for once to use their phone. Nadir had not been sympathetic when Erik called him to bail him out.

Erik hovered at the entrance for a moment, but that only seemed to draw more attention. He finally swept into the store wearing his customary all black and a scowl. As expected, everyone in the store stared at him. Parents consciously or unconsciously put themselves between him and their children, shielding them from the strange masked man with the sour expression.

The pretty woman with the Puccini biography was working that day, and she was walking straight towards him.

 _Shit!_

He had really hoped she wouldn't be here today. He didn't want her to see him here buying a dumb teddy bear, probably thinking he was a total creep. As she approached, seemingly in slow motion, he wished the floor would open right there and swallow him whole, or that he would melt away into the disgusting carpet.

"Hi, can I help you, sir," she asked politely in the most exquisite voice. Her plastic nametag announced that her name was _'Christine.'_

"I'm here to buy a gift for someone," he muttered, sounding very much like Buffalo Bill from _The Silence of the Lambs._ When she looked at him uncertainly, he cleared his throat and clarified, "I need to buy a gift for someone."

A father nearby rolled his eyes, obviously thinking, _Yeah, sure, there's no way this teddy bear is for your creepy ass._

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather bring your son or daughter here and experience this with your child," she asked brightly. "Kids have a lot of fun putting their bears together and doing it with you might make the gift more meaningful."

Erik's face burned with mortification as he stammered, "I don't – I don't have kids. I mean, this isn't for a _kid_. It's for my friend. Meg. She's 24." He cringed and hung his head.

"Oh," Christine said, looking down at the floor. "Well, this would probably be a fun date..."

Erik snorted. "It's not like that," he assured her. "She's like the sister I never had. I think she just said she wanted one of these," he gestured to a shelf covered in stuffed animals, "for her birthday to humiliate me."

"Ah, I gotcha," she nodded thoughtfully. "I don't have any siblings, but that sounds like something a kid sister would do." She glanced around and then leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, if she doesn't want a bear, and just wants to torture you, then I think we need to make something really crazy."

Erik smirked, relaxing a little at the prospect of mischief. "I like the way you think, Christine," he purred. He saw her eyes go a little unfocused for a moment, but then she blinked a couple of times. He knew it wasn't fair to deploy the Voice, but desperate times called for desperate circumstances.

"I'm thinking, maybe a punk rock unicorn, or a stoner bear," she whispered.

"Supervillain," Erik offered. "Or an assassin."

"You know what," Christine said enthusiastically, "there are an unnecessary number of weapons in the _Star Wars_ line."

They picked the darkest bear in the store and started rummaging through the accessories. They found black pants, a black motorcycle jacket and some black boots. Erik took a few minutes to decide between the stormtrooper blaster and the Boba Fett blaster, weighing the pros and cons of each. Christine suggested he go with the Boba Fett blaster. Otherwise, Assassin Bear would be destined to be a terrible shot. Erik deferred to her superior knowledge of stuffed weapons, saying that they should really go with two – one for each arm. Then Christine topped off Assassin Bear's look with a pirate's eye patch – most sinister, indeed.

Christine brought him a little voice recorder they could put in Assassin Bear's tummy, so Meg could hear a special message when she hugged it.

"Okay, talk into it on 'three,'" she instructed. "One, two, three…"

"Your days are numbered…be prepared for a great misfortune…a disaster beyond your imagination will occur," he growled into the little recorder. Christine giggled as she turned it off and saved the message.

"There's one last step," she told him.

"And what's that," Erik asked, good-naturedly.

Christine took his hand and guided him over to a box full of little red hearts. She picked one out and held it out to him. He took it with a grin and waited for an explanation.

"Now, hold it over your heart," she explained, taking the hand that held the little heart and gently placing it over his pounding chest.

 _Surely, she can feel that,_ he thought, fighting the urge to look away from her bright blue eyes.

"Now, hold it there for a few more seconds," Christine continued, "and think about how much you love… _Meg,_ wasn't it?"

"Okay," he murmured, his hand shaking a little under hers. Finally, after a tense few seconds, Christine released his hand. His grip on the little heart slackened. She held out her palm in a silent request for him to give her the heart. He did so with a nervous laugh, and Christine carefully slipped it inside a little pocket in the bear's back and then sealed the pocket's Velcro strips.

"Now we just have to name him," she announced, turning to a little desktop touchscreen computer. She pushed a few buttons on to call up the right screen.

Erik hummed thoughtfully. "How about... The Phantom?"

"I like it," Christine declared, giving him a wide grin. "The Phantom, it is." She punched into the name and Erik's information. When she hit print, Erik realized that this was almost over. He should have been relieved, but he felt a little disappointed. As Christine boxed up The Phantom and the certificate she had printed out, he was filled with doubts.

Should he have flirted more? Should he ask her out for drinks? Should he ask if she had a boyfriend?

"Well, thanks for helping me with this," Erik said as she handed him the box.

"No problem," she replied. "Stacey can check you out right over here."

Back in his car, Erik slumped in the seat, kicking himself for not asking for her phone number. It was already creepy that he'd been hanging out at a toy store. He couldn't go back without looking like a stalker. And now he'd never speak to her again. He would never forgive Meg for pushing him to do this. Wondering what might have been with a stranger at the food court was one thing, but this was different. He had felt a spark, but now he would never know if she had felt it, too.

Erik had waited until the last minute to get this done – or at least the last couple of hours. He was expected at Meg's birthday dinner soon. He drove around aimlessly, thinking about Christine's smile, her voice, her eyes, her sense of humor…

He finally pulled into the restaurant, parked and joined Antoinette, Nadir, Meg and her awful boyfriend, Raoul at their table.

Without a word, he sat down and moodily pushed the box with the bear across the table to her.

"Oh my God, you did it," Meg squealed, clapping her hands like a little girl. "Was she there? Did you talk to her? How did it go?"

"Yes, yes, and fine."

"When are you going to see her again," Meg prodded.

"Probably never," Erik muttered, glaring at her. "It's not appropriate to come onto a girl at her job."

Meg and Antoinette made sympathetic noises while Nadir rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Come on, Meg," Raoul interrupted, "open it up. Let's see your bear."

Meg complied, always eager to open presents, even though she hadn't seriously wanted a teddy bear. When she pulled it out and saw it in all of its murderous glory, the astonished look on her face was priceless.

"That's what you get for meddling in my affairs," Erik chided with a satisfied smirk.

"What's this at the bottom," Raoul asked, pulling out the certificate. "Oh, wow, Erik! Nice going!" He handed the certificate to Meg, who simply squealed again before holding it up to Antoinette and Nadir.

"Erik, you dog," Nadir teased, wagging his finger at him while his eyes crinkled at the corners.

Erik could feel his neck and masked face turn red in embarrassment. He hated to not know why people goaded him. "What is it?"

Meg handed the paper over to him. It had the name and date, as expected, but there was a typed message at the bottom.

E _rik, I told you this was a fun date. :) Christine_

She had also typed in a ten-digit phone number.

Erik's eyes widened, and his throat went dry, as he stared at the message she had left for him. He had never gotten a girl's phone number before, at least not in a flirtatious, non-professional kind of way.

He didn't look up until the server asked for his drink order. He blinked and heard Meg say, "Just go and call her."

Erik shot out of his seat and ran past the confused server. He stood under a tree in the corner of the parking lot, seeking a little shelter. His hands shook as he dialed the number from the certificate.

It rang twice, and then the loveliest voice he had ever heard said, "Hi, this is Christine."

"Hi, this is Erik."


	2. A Cheap Version of RENT

_**A/N: Okay, so I'm gonna level with you. Last week, when I was writing Chapter Two, I was out sick with the flu, and I was on some pretty great cough medicine. I was just letting the words flow, doing some editing as I went along, doin' my thaaaang.**_

 _ **Anyway, Christine was thinking about her love life, and I told myself, "Now, remember, Raoul wasn't her ex-boyfriend." But then I couldn't remember why, and the cough syrup was like, "Of course, he's her ex-boyfriend! Why wouldn't he be?" Because the cough syrup did not remember that I had made Raoul Meg's boyfriend back when this was supposed to be a one-shot, and I couldn't resist irritating Erik with Raoul's golden presence.**_

 _ **Bad GF!**_

 _ **If anybody was expecting a hard right turn into angst for Chapter Three as Raoul and Christine are reunited with Erik and Meg right there, or something, I am sorry to say that this was never my intention, and I have corrected it in this updated version of Chapter Two. Thank you to Dkk5 for pointing out that this Chapter made no sense, and happy birthday on Thursday! Also, I've thrown in a few changes for AnotherSilentObserver and UncondionaLove. That's right, ladies, vocal exercises!**_

A Cheap Version of _RENT_

"Hi, this is Christine," she said brightly. _Too much, Christine, too much._

She was sitting at her favorite table in the food court, having gotten off work about half an hour before. This was her favorite table because it was as far away from the loudspeakers as possible, and she could almost _not_ hear the music playing constantly in the food court.

Christine's preference for this table now paid off – it was easier to hear the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi, this is Erik." _Oh, God, that voice! Please don't be a creep, please don't be a creep, please don't be a creep!_

"Good to know," she said with what she hoped was convincing bravado.

"Good to know," he repeated questioningly.

"Yes, good to know you're not one of those guys who makes a girl wait for three days before calling her." _Yeah, that sounds cool._

She could hear him smiling on the other end. "I would never make a lady wait. And it's good to know you're not the kind of woman to let it go to voicemail when you're expecting me to call."

 _Shoot! He has me there._

"What do you intend to do with this information," she asked, trying to sound coy. _This is the best use I've put to my acting classes in a while._

"I intend to call you as often as you're willing to answer," he replied smoothly. "And to ask you for a date," he added. "A real one, teddy bear free."

"Speaking of teddy bears, have you delivered our baby to your friend," she giggled, twining a ringlet around one of her fingers.

"I did," Erik confirmed with a Disney villain-esque laugh, "and her face was priceless."

"Are you sure you don't want to make another teddy bear together," Christine suggested. "Any other enemies you need to punish?"

"Oh, I have no shortage of enemies," Erik assured her. "But I'm in more of a…sociable mood right now. Would you be interested in accompanying me to the Opera Populaire's production of _La Bohéme_?

" _La Bohéme_ ," she repeated thoughtfully. "Is that like a cheap version of _RENT_?

Erik harrumphed into the phone. "You did not!"

Christine laughed out loud, causing a middle-aged woman at the next table to shoot her a dirty look over her sweet and sour chicken. "Is their Mimi as good as Anna Netrebko?"

"Darling, nobody's as good as Netrebko," he drawled.

"Well, you're not exactly selling this production," Christine grumbled. "But Puccini is one of my favorite composers, so I suppose I'll go with you."

"Excellent. Meet me at the theatre around 6:30?"

"Works for me."

 **xXx**

Christine nervously examined a poster advertising _La Bohéme_ outside the theatre. She tried to focus on the few details about the production she could glean as she tried not to question her decision to meet up with a mysterious masked man who visited teddy bear stores.

 _Judging by Rodolpho and Mimi's costumes, this is going to take place in the late nineteenth century, so it's not an "updated" production… At least, I'm not getting into a car with him… It's hard to resist putting a candle on the poster when that's such an iconic scene… He doesn't know where I live, yet, so there's that…_

It was sheer madness to agree to go out with Erik. She hated going out with men she didn't know. Her only romantic relationship to speak of had lasted one very disappointing semester in college, and that had fizzled out when he cheated on her with another girl in the SATB choir. Since then, she had gone on a couple of first dates with guys she'd met in grad school, but nothing had really _clicked_.

But Erik was different… oh, boy was he different! The intimidating height, the Bowie-esque beanpole physique, the mask that filled her with questions she couldn't politely ask, and, most of all, a voice that would surely put angels to shame, even when he was stumbling over his words in embarrassment.

That voice made her think insane things like, _It's good he doesn't have kids – that means there's not a baby mamma to compete with,_ and, _I hope I'm off when he brings his girlfriend here, or I'll gag,_ and, _Like a sister? That's good. Sister is good. But we should make a horribly unromantic bear, just in case._

And it had been _fun_ making that bear. God, when was the last time she'd had that much fun with a guy?

It had been a long time since she'd had a good time at work, too. You'd think that helping kids craft the ideal teddy bear every day would at least be pleasant, even if it wasn't exactly fulfilling her personal ambitions. But the parents made the experience awful. She'd seen far too many little girls who wanted their bears dressed like stormtroopers or ninja turtles settle for princesses and brides because their moms said blasters and swords were for boys, while dresses and bouquets were for girls. Obviously, nothing was wrong with little girls _wanting_ princess bears… but if they didn't want princess bears, they shouldn't have to leave the store with princess bears! And the poor little _boys_ , who wanted the princess bears, but got stuck with cops or firemen... well, it was heartbreaking.

But helping Erik put together The Phantom's accessories – the blasters, the eyepatch, etc. – had been exciting, weird, uninhibited. Finally, when she had held his hand over his heart and felt it racing, something had _clicked._ As she keyed in the "birth certificate" information, she had the mad impulse to include her phone number, so she did.

Now here she was in her burgundy skater dress and black flats, waiting for a man she barely knew, trying not to think about the many reasons she had to run away.

"You look beautiful," came that knee-weakening voice behind her. Christine spun around and almost tripped, but he gallantly steadied her with the lightest touch on her arm and then immediately let go. She saw him clench his hand into a fist and then stretch it out again.

"Thank you," she murmured, flushing a little. It had been a long time since someone had said anything like that to her. Catcalled, yes. Genuinely complimented by someone whose attention she invited, no. "So, do we have good seats," she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, and no," he said. He did not elaborate, so she nodded awkwardly and eyed him curiously. He just smirked and began walking away from the theatre. He stopped a few feet away, turned, and waited for her to follow.

"I can guarantee you'll have one of the most stunning views of the theatre," he assured her, "but you'll have to trust me."

 _I trust he pepper spray in my purse._

Christine slowly walked toward him, and when she reached him, he turned into a little alley beside the theatre. It was summer, so the sun was still out, but it was darker in the alley. She was surprised when Erik opened a door that been well-camouflaged to blend in with the wall. He held it open for her and ushered her into the dimly-lit building before silently shuting the door behind them.

"We're sneaking in," she hissed.

"I'm not paying to this show," Erik scoffed. "Besides, the box office doesn't sell tickets to the view I'm going to give you."

There was a set of steep stairs directly in front of them, and Erik helped her up, keeping a steady hand on her elbow. His hands were a little chilly, but the contact made her arm tingle pleasantly.

There were landings with doors every eight feet or so, but they passed up several before Erik stopped her and opened one. This time, Erik went in first and cautioned her to watch her step. He turned to face her and held out both of his hands. She placed her small hands in his and felt his long, spindly fingers curl protectively around them. He started backing up along a narrow catwalk hemmed in by a wall and a solid, waist-high railing.

Christine had always been a little afraid of heights. She tried to focus on him, rather than look down at whatever great height the railing was protecting them from, so she didn't notice the two straight-backed chairs in the middle of the path until they were right on them. He helped her sit in the one closest to the door, and then he took the seat next to her. Once she felt secure, she looked out over the railing and gasped.

They were sitting above the stage! She assumed the back of the set was directly below them. Performers in costume were already waiting in the wings for their cues, the orchestra was turning their instruments, most of the audience was already seated, and crewmembers in black were running to and fro. He was going to show her parts of the production most people didn't get to see.

"This is incredible," she whispered, taking it all in.

"I know," Erik said smugly, leaning back with his arms behind his head.

The conductor soon came out of the orchestra pit, and the opera began.

It was fascinating to watch it like this, and Erik pointed out interesting things about the production as they happened. He had a wealth of knowledge about the opera this company, and about the practicalities of mounting a production like this. She knew he was showing off a little, but he didn't sound condescending. If felt like she was attending one of her graduate seminars, and the professor wanted her to succeed.

When the intermission arrived, Christine finally asked him the question she had been pondering since he'd opened that door in the alley. "How do you know so much about this theatre? Do you sneak around here a lot?"

Erik chuckled, and she liked the way his strangely amber-colored eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh, yes, I do. And I tell the management exactly what I think of everything from the singers to the set pieces. Everyone here thinks me quite the terror. I get paid quite handsomely to do it, too."

"What do you mean," she questioned.

"I'm the Populaire's Music Director," Erik admitted with a modest shrug.

"The Music Director," she sputtered. "Then we aren't really sneaking around."

"We most certainly are," he argued. "I didn't tell anybody I was bringing you up here. Nothing would give me more pride than telling everyone in the company that I was escorting a beautiful woman, such as yourself, for a night at the opera, you understand," he declared, resting a hand briefly on her arm before withdrawing it as if her skin burned him. "However, if I told them I wanted to bring you up here, I would have been told that it was not allowed, and I simply refuse to be told what I can and cannot do in my theatre."

Christine gaped at him for a few seconds before dissolving into a fit of giggles. She tried to sober herself when the orchestra struck up again, but she couldn't help smiling until the opera grew quite tragic. Once it was over and the cast assembled to take their bows, Christine applauded enthusiastically, but she remained in her seat.

 _Ugh, heights._

She and Erik continued to watch – Christine with great interest, Erik with indolence – as the audience dispersed, the cast disappeared into the wings, and the stage was reset for the next performance.

"Did you have a good time," Erik asked in a tone that suggested he was testing the waters.

"I did," she beamed back at him. "I've been in a few student productions, but it was amazing to see a professional company at work like this."

"You've been in student productions," he repeated, leaning forward in his chair, his bony elbows resting on his knees. "Do you sing?" He sounded… hopeful. It seemed important to him.

"Yes," she answered, a little breathless at his sudden intensity. "I'm in grad school right now. I'm getting my Masters in Voice at the Conservatory."

Erik stood up quickly, running a hand through his dark hair. He was radiating nervous energy.

"Would you like to see the stage up close," he asked excitedly.

Christine was a little bemused by this change, but she wanted to see where this evening was going. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He once more guided her to the door and down a few flights of stairs until he led her through one of the doors they had passed earlier. This one led to the backstage area, and he continued to grasp her hand as he led her out to the center of the darkened stage. The auditorium was now lit by nothing but safety lights along the aisles.

Erik backed away into the wings. "Would you like to sing?"

"Here," Christine gasped. "I can't just sing in this big, empty theatre."

"Why not? You're a singer, aren't you," he shot at her over his shoulder as he disappeared into the wings.

"I haven't warmed up," she protested weakly.

Christine heard a squeaky noise she knew well from years of rehearsals. Erik pushed an old upright piano on wheels in serious need of greasing towards her. They must have kept it nearby in the wings for rehearsals without the full orchestra. Still standing, Erik began played scales in the key of C and stared at her expectantly.

She put her hands on her hips and studied him for a moment. My he was determined to hear her! Once again, she had feeling that her voice was of vital importance to him. It was as if she was being tested, and the success of this date hung on her success in this little audition.

She couldn't say she really wanted to audition to be his love interest.

But singing here _was_ tempting. It wasn't as if she hadn't sung in an auditorium this size before. But this was a professional stage, and she was _not_ a professional singer. Not yet, anyway.

Christine shook her head in exasperation, but nevertheless, she turned to face the rows and rows of seats, assumed the correct posture and took a few breaths to prepare. They ran through a few vocal exercises. Occasionally, Erik would stop her and give her some instruction.

 _Don't force that note, make sure your tongue is touching the back of your teeth, cheat the vowel a little towards a more comfortable sound._

His compliments came rarely, but when they did come, she felt a rush of pleasure.

"Do you know 'Sì, mi chiamano Mimì,' he questioned.

She nodded, and he played a short introduction, nodding when he wanted her to come in.

Before she had finished the first couple of lines, the spotlight came on, startling her, but not enough to make her stop. She darted a look at Erik, who hadn't even stopped playing.

 _How did he…_

She didn't bother trying to puzzle it out, assuming if she continued to see Erik, she would have to get used to surprises.

Once the last note of her aria died away, she heard the most beautiful thing in the world – something sweet but powerful. It was coming from Erik, who had left his place at the old piano and was sauntering towards her as he sang.

 _O dolce viso  
di mite circonfuso  
alba lunar  
in te, vivo ravviso  
il sogno ch'io vorrei  
sempre sognar!_

 _(Oh, how sweet your face looks,  
its beauty softly kissed by the  
gentle moonlight.  
In you, sweet maiden,  
I see the dreams of love I have  
dreamt about forever.)_

It was the beginning of the duet between Mimi, the seamstress, and Rodolpho the poet. She didn't hesitate to answer with Mimi's response, too wrapped up in the music and the moment.

 _Ah! tu sol comandi, amor!_

 _(Ah! Love, only you alone guide us!)_

Erik continued with Rodolpho's part, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

 _Fremon già nell'anima  
le dolcezze estreme,  
nel bacio freme amor!_

 _(Such sweet love invades my soul.  
I feel such joy, and love so tender.  
Our kisses tremble with love.)_

Again, Christine answered him, her face tipped up to gaze into his amber eyes, raising herself onto the balls of her feet to close some of the distance.

 _Ah! tu sol comandi, amor!_

 _Oh! come dolci scendono  
le sue lusinghe al core...  
tu sol comandi, amore!_

 _(Ah! Love, only you alone guide us!_

 _His gentle sweet words delight me,  
as they flatter my heart.  
Love, only you alone guide us!)_

Just as the soprano and tenor singing Mimi and Rodolpho had a couple of hours earlier, Erik cupped her cheek with a trembling hand and crushed her lips with his in a kiss.

It only lasted a few seconds because Erik jumped away from her and out of their spotlight, hands in the air as if he was surrendering to someone or showing her that he didn't have any weapons.

"I – I must apologize, Christine," he said shakily. "I didn't mean to – to do that. Please forgive me. I was just swept away. By the music."

"It's alright," Christine breathed. "I was a little swept away, too." She could feel herself blushing, and she hoped the spotlight was washing her out too much for him to see it.

"I was wrong," Erik pronounced more firmly. " _You're_ as good as Netrebko. Maybe better…with some more training.

This only caused Christine to blush more, and she unconsciously moved out of the spotlight, too.

Erik shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Christine, I have a confession to make. I wasn't completely honest with you about why I was in the toy store that day." She could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. "Meg and I – that is my friend, the girl who's like my little sister, and I – were out shopping for a wedding gift for her mother, and we spotted you at the food court. You were reading a Puccini biography, and… well, you were pretty, and apparently interested in music… so Meg tried to persuade me to approach you. But I didn't think you'd want me to," he said hurriedly, hanging his head. "So, she asked for a teddy bear from that store to force me to go in and maybe talk to you."

"I have a confession, too," Christine admitted, causing him to raise his head again. "When you came in, I recognized you from the food court."

"But you were completely engrossed in your book," he exclaimed.

"No woman is ever so engrossed in her book," she noted dryly, "that she doesn't notice a strange man openly staring at her in a mall food court."

"Touché," Erik conceded with a nod. "So, why did you talk to me?"

It was Christine's turn to hang her head in embarrassment. "My manager wanted me to keep you occupied in case you were there to kidnap a child. I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and not tell her I thought you were there for me." She peered up at him through her eyelashes. "And then we hit off. I think we made a beautifully demented bear together."

"Yes, yes, we did," Erik agreed fondly.

"You may have to get your friend a new birthday gift," Christine suggested. "I think I'm going to need that bear back."

"Why would you want an assassin teddy bear," he chuckled.

"I might want it to remember that day," Christine said with a shrug and a smile. "I have a feeling it might turn out to be important."


	3. Showtime

_**A/N: I really had no intention of making Raoul both Meg's boyfriend, and Christine's ex. I just wasn't thinking clearly when I wrote Chapter Two. I am never writing under the influence of prescription-grade cough syrup again. Apparently, I can't handle it.**_

 _ **This was my reaction when UnconventionaLove pointed out that I still hadn't purged Raoul entirely from Chapter Two, as I had intended with I posted my first set of corrections: "Get out of my f****** story, you sorry sack of s***! That's why everyone f****** hates your sorry fop-a**, and your f****** hair! Go to non-OTP h***!"**_

 _ **I think I have completely corrected my mistake with the third time I posted that chapter.**_

 _ **So, I've…**_ **taken care** _ **of him in this chapter…Muhahahaha!**_

 _ **I know I promised you a short epilogue, but this went a little longer than I'd intended, just like this story was supposed to be a one-shot, but I couldn't leave it alone.**_

 _ **Anyway, on with the show!**_

Showtime

 _Two years later_

"Erik, are sure you need this violent bear," Nadir asked nervously on the other end of the line.

"Why does everyone say it's a violent bear? If it only had _one gun_ , would everyone agree that was a normal number of weapons for a teddy bear?"

"Erik…"

"The bear is essential," was Erik's crisp reply.

"I'm not really sure it matches the aesthetic," Nadir argued hesitantly.

"Nadir," Erik questioned softly, _threateningly_ , "are you trying to tell me that you've lost the bear?"

"No, I'm trying to convince you not to use the bear, so I don't _have to tell_ _you._ I haven't seen the bear since we went drinking last night," he said the last part in a rush.

Erik sighed into his cell phone and rubbed one temple to calm himself down. "I don't care what it takes, or how hard you have to search, but you _will_ find the bear. Is that understood?"

"Erik, it might not be feasible. We only have _six hours_ , and that's not counting how long it'll take me to get ready and get to the theatre," Nadir whined. At least it sounded like whining to Erik's delicate ears. No doubt, Nadir would have disagreed with that characterization.

"If you don't find that bear," Erik was truly threatening now, "I'm going to tell your wife that you've been cheating on your diet."

"You wouldn't," his friend gasped.

"I would," Erik barked into the phone.

"You would," Nadir conceded. "I'll find the stupid bear."

 **xXx**

"What happened with you and your boyfriend," Christine asked while the hair dresser tamed a stray curl with a bobby pin. Her unruly curls were swept away from her face into a half-up style that allowed the rest to tumble down her back.

"He was just too clingy." Meg wrinkled her nose at the memory of Raoul as she pinned her own straight blonde hair into a ballerina bun. As a professional dancer, who was used to doing her own hair before a performance, Meg rarely let anyone else put her hair up. "He was always hanging around, butting into things. I need someone who knows that I need my space."

"He did seem a little out of place," Christine agreed as the hair dresser finished her look with some theatre-grade hairspray, ensuring that her hair would be perfect for hours to come.

Christine watched Meg in the dressing room mirror, remembering the first time she had met the ballerina who would become her best friend.

It had been at Antoinette and Nadir's wedding a couple of months after Christine's first date with Erik. She had been so nervous to meet everyone, especially Meg. Erik had told her about growing up as an orphan, about meeting Antoinette and Nadir as a young man and sort of adopting them as his family. Erik had been the one to introduce them to each other. Meg had been a little girl then, and he had been surprised to discover that he enjoyed performing magic tricks for her, playing for her while she practiced dancing, listening to her talk about her school-yard social drama.

Meg and Erik were closer than a lot of biological siblings, and Christine knew that Erik valued her opinion. She had conned him into the teddy bear thing, for goodness' sake! She was terrified she'd screw something up, but she and Meg had immediately hit it off. Meg was excited about anybody dating Erik, and Meg quickly confessed that she was a "total E/C shipper."

They had started going to movies together, shopping trips, girls' nights in. As it turned out, Erik was really good at bringing families together.

 **xXx**

Nadir ran his fingers frantically through his graying hair as he straightened up from looking under the last table in the second bar he and Erik and had visited the night before. They never went out drinking, preferring to occasionally partake in Erik's office or at the odd dinner party. This had been a rare indulgence by two men who tended to keep to themselves and their small circle of friends. Erik was far from a party animal, and Nadir's conscience was pricked just a little every time he imbibed. While he hadn't practiced his Muslim faith since college, Nadir was beginning to see why alcohol was forbidden.

It made you do stupid things, like lose your adult friend's teddy bear and then spend hours retracing your steps while looking for it.

He remembered having the bear at rehearsal before he and Erik went out. But he didn't remember what had happened to the dumb toy afterwards. He had checked the theatre. He had checked his car. He had checked the house. Luckily, Antoinette had already left, so he didn't have to confess his transgressions to her. He had combed the first and second bars, somehow getting lucky enough to call when someone was cleaning the first and when there was a private event party at the second.

With an exasperated sigh, he googled the third bar and dialed its number. They didn't pick up. His luck had run out.

 **xXx**

Erik had a splitting headache, and the total incompetence of their lighting technician was not helping. Nor was Nadir's aggravating lack of teddy bear. He shouldn't have let his so-called best friend drag him out last night. If he'd just gone home after the rehearsal, his patience wouldn't be wearing so thin, and Nadir might have been able to produce the requisite Phantom bear.

"Let's try this again, Allan," Erik called from the stage. The lights came up, bathing the stage in a warm glow. The back screen was lit with dark blues, and there were tiny, white LED lights, like stars, poking through. The whole thing mimicked the night sky, complete with a full moon suspended from the rafters.

"Vanessa," Erik growled to the stage manager beside him, "they still don't have the blue right. There's no sense of the different blues that make up the sky. It just looks like one color."

Vanessa rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Go sit in the middle of the orchestra section and see if it looks right to you from there."

Erik stalked halfway down the center aisle and then threw himself into a seat. He examined the lighting, paying close attention to every square inch of the screen, seeing if it gave the impression of the alternating softer and darker blues that you could see at night if you paid attention to the wider universe enfolding and dwarfing you. He had to admit that from a little farther away, it all worked much better. If he squinted, he could almost felt the wonder and weight of the infinite.

"This will do," he granted, standing up and heading for the backstage.

 **xXx**

The make-up artist put the finishing touches on Christine's lips, and she admired herself in her dressing room mirror. It was time to get changed. "Only half an hour 'til showtime," she whispered at her reflection.

 **xXx**

"Do you have it," Erik asked frantically when Nadir finally joined him in his office. Everyone would need to take their places in ten minutes. Nadir had the good grace to look ashamed as he shook his head from side to side. Erik's shoulder slumped. "Christine is going to be so disappointed." He eased himself onto the couch he sometimes slept on when he worked late.

Nadir sat down heavily next to him. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I know how much that bear means to her. How much she wanted it to be part of this."

"The Phantom," Erik laughed bitterly. "Of course, he's disappeared – probably somewhere in the bowels of this opera house."

"What are you two going on about," Antoinette asked sharply from the doorway. "Don't you know what time it is? And where have you been all day?" She directed her last question to her husband.

"I've been out looking for the—"

He stopped when he saw what Antoinette was holding. It was the Phantom! Nadir had never been so happy to see that stupid teddy bear – _any_ teddy bear! He and Erik both jumped out of their seats and rushed to the door. "Where did you find that?"

"It was in my car. You gave it to me for safe-keeping last night after the rehearsal," she said, giving him an appraising look. "Just how much did you drink last night?"

"Never mind that now," Nadir exclaimed nervously, taking it from her. "You've saved the day, darling!"

He gave the teddy bear a relieved squeeze, and Erik's recorded voice declared, "Your days are numbered!"

"You two are never going drinking again," Antoinette warned as she shooed them down the hall towards the theatre. "And you had better not have been eating snacks from your stash in Erik's office."

"How did you know about that," Nadir marveled.

"You're always covered in Cheeto dust when you leave his office."

 **xXx**

Erik tugged at his stiff collar as the orchestra played the overture of _Le Nozze di Figaro_ on the stage, the orchestra pit having been covered for this occasion _._ He hadn't seen Christine all day, and he wondered if she was as nervous as he was. No doubt, she'd found some time to properly warm up without him backstage. She was a professional now, after all.

He looked out into the orchestra section of the audience seating. Christine's parents had passed away years before, so they weren't here to see this, but her two aunts and their families were in the front row to support her, along with some of her friends from college and grad school. He frowned a bit when he saw her former manager from the teddy bear store. Erik supposed he had her to thank for telling Christine to work with him that day two years ago, but he resented the suspicions that had prompted her to do so.

"Relax," Nadir whispered. "You look like you're going to a funeral."

"I just want everything to be perfect for Christine," Erik hissed, adjusting his tie again.

"Everything is going to be fine," Nadir soothed him. "We've already weathered one crisis." He shook the teddy bear to prove his point. "What else could go wrong?"

"Never say something like that in a theatre," Erik chided, eyes darting around the auditorium, as if something terrible could happen at any moment.

"You're not usually the superstitious type," Nadir observed. "What has you rankled now? You've planned everything to a tee."

Erik's vision swam with sudden tears, and he clenched his hands into fists. He took a calming breath before he choked out, "What if Christine doesn't want to go through with it?"

Nadir huffed out a short breath. "Is that what you're worried about? You think anything is going to stop her from showing up on this stage?"

Erik didn't have the chance to answer, as the music paused. The doors at the back of the theatre opened, revealing Meg Giry in a gray chiffon gown with a loose skirt that allowed for a lot of movement. The orchestra began playing music from the first act of _Giselle_. People gasped as Meg danced _en pointe_ all the way down the center aisle – Erik's own idea.

The music paused for another moment, and the doors at the back closed.

This was it.

Everyone stood up from their seats, the doors opened again, and the orchestra struck up the "Bridal Chorus" from _Lohengrin_ by Wagner. The Populaire's chorus began singing from the balcony section as Christine came into view and slowly walked down the aisle.

Erik thought she had never been more beautiful. Her white mermaid gown was covered in elaborate lace and swirling beading. The neckline was made of floral lace accents that kissed her bare skin as it swept up in lace off-the shoulder cap sleeves with gauzy floor-length capes that gently floated behind her as she made her way towards him. She didn't wear a veil, so everyone could see her radiant smile, and he wished his face could go uncovered, too. He wished he could be handsome for her, to at least be _normal_ enough to stand on this stage waiting for his bride without his heart hammering as people stared at him.

Meanwhile, Christine had no thoughts of how Erik would look with unblemished skin and a nose. She loved him just the way he was, especially when his eyes were a little watery with unshed tears of joy – joy that she had brought him. She knew that all eyes were likely on her right now – this was supposed to be the bride's big day, after all – but the only eyes that mattered were Erik's amber ones, and she hoped he understood that she had eyes only for him. Eyes that liked what they saw when he stood before her with no mask between them. When she smiled at him, she hoped he understood that she wouldn't change a thing.

Erik's stomach lurched as she mounted the short flight of steps they had installed for the occasion, and he was afraid he'd faint dead away when she took her place next to him. They both turned their bodies to Antoinette, but they continued to stare adoringly at each other – _his bride and her groom._

Everyone took their seats again as Antoinette cleared her voice.

"We are gathered here today," Antoinette announced, her voice to filling the auditorium, "in this palace dedicated to music, to hear two voices join in a duet that will last a lifetime. Erik and Christine have been going solo for a long time. But a shared interest in Puccini, a meddlesome ballerina who has become like a sister to them both, and one well-armed teddy bear have brought them together."

Their attention shifted in and out as Antoinette talked about their love for each other, sprinkled generously with music puns. Nadir read "Vows/Epithalamion" by Tony Kushner, which Erik had chosen, and Meg read Pablo Neruda's "Sonnet XVII," which Christine had chosen.

Finally, it was time for the vows. Christine gave her bouquet of white roses and peonies to Meg, and she joined hands with Erik.

"Christine Amelia Daaé," Erik began a little hoarsely, "I promise to love you, to cherish you, and to make music with you for the rest of our days. I believe in you, I will support you, and I will strive to make our dreams come true. I will be faithfully yours in times of success, in times of _the opposite_ of success," which caused giggles all through the chorus and orchestra, "and I will always light your candle."

"Erik Dorian Reed," Christine vowed, her own lovely voice a little shaky, "I promise to love you, to sing with you, and to make our happiness together a priority. I will be there for you, I will show you how much I love you, and I will make sure you can always be yourself with me. I will celebrate good times with you and cheer you in bad, and I will always bring my candle to you."

Meg handed Christine a white pillar candle, and Erik produced a match box from his pocket. He struck one and lit her candle to a chorus of _aw_ s. Meg took the candle back and carefully placed it in a candelabrum at the side of the stage before rejoining the wedding party.

"Erik," Antoinette continued, "do you take Christine to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he declared.

"Christine, do you take Erik as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she replied eagerly.

"Erik and Christine, you will exchange rings. Like your vows, these rings will be a reminder of this day, and your commitment to one another."

Nadir presented the Phantom teddy bear, which had been appointed the ring bearer. He untied the little ribbon around its neck which held the rings, and then handed Christine's to Erik.

Erik took Christine's hand and held the ring at the ready.

"With this ring, I thee wed, as a symbol of my love and commitment to you," he recited from memory. He gently slipped the platinum, diamond-studded band onto her finger.

Nadir handed Erik's ring to Christine.

"With this ring, I thee wed, as a symbol of my love and commitment to you," Christine repeated, sliding the ring over Erik's bony digit.

"In the presence of family and friends," Antoinette announced, "you have expressed your love for one another. By the power vested in me by the internet and the state of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife."

The orchestra started playing "O soave fanciulla"from _La Bohéme_ – the same duet they had sung two years earlier in this very spot. Caught up in the music, it had inspired their first kiss. Once again, caught up in the thrill of hearing their two voices joined together in perfect harmony, their duet ended with their first kiss as a married couple.

Applause rang out through the theatre as the orchestra struck up Mendelsohn's "Wedding March," and Erik couldn't help grinning like a fool as his wife took the Phantom teddy bear from Nadir and then gently squeezed her husband's hand. The three of them walked down the aisle together towards their happy ending.

 _ **A/N: I was so mad that I let my continuity issues with Raoul totally being Meg's boyfriend, instead of Christine's ex, that I wanted to kill him. But I thought sudden and tragic death might be too extreme for a fluffy rom-com, so I just had Meg dump him, instead. Problem solved!**_

 _ **Just out of curiosity, at what point did you realize it was a wedding and not a performance?**_

 _ **This is the end! I'm very happy with it, and I hope you are, too. Thank you to everyone who read this, and double thanks to everyone who gave me feedback!**_

 _ **I hope to get my entry for Not A Ghost3's Valentine's Day one-shot contest out soon. It will be part of my Gift Wrappings series of holiday vignettes. Consider this a shameless plug for that series, but also a selfless plug for Not A Ghost3's Delirium Kisses and all of the entries that will pop up from now through the end of the contest. The Christmas contest sure was a lot of fun, and I know we'll get a lot of great fluffy, romantic goodness out of Valentine's Day.**_

 _ **GF**_


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